


The Bard

by Vikki_Venom



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Instability, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Knights - Freeform, Loss, Love, M/M, Mages, Magic, Oblivious Bard, Teacher Bard, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vikki_Venom/pseuds/Vikki_Venom
Summary: We follow the antics of Paxion Jarvey, a smart mouthed and flirtatious bard who takes everything with a grain of salt. Along with a few unlikely companions, Paxion takes a journey that leads across the land of Chimrah. He finds himself in the middle of a dark warlock's plot to plunge the peaceful nations into all out war. Along with a knight, a prince, a demon, an elf and a dragon, they all have to put their differences aside to help stop the warlock's evil plan.





	The Bard

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any grammar errors, this was written on a whim and I rather enjoyed it, as I hope you do as well.

Soren leaned against the wooden fence playing his lute melodically. Small happy strums against the strings as the cool autumn air blew his long raven hair about. The citizens of the small town of Honoley passed by with odd glances. He did stand out, as he was one of the lone Elves in the small human village. He didn’t mind in the least however, just happy with his song. 

He opened his dark blue eyes and stopped strumming, feeling little fingers in his pack on his hip. He quickly turned and grabbed a small boys wrist with his long dark fingers. He was shocked by what he saw.

The young boy looked no older than nine or ten. His face smudged with dirt, his long platinum blonde hair an unkempt mess, big blue eyes welling with tears at the fear of being caught picking the good bard’s pack. Soren’s eyes went soft. He let go of the boys hand and knelt to his level.

Unspoken understanding emanated from the kind bard. He was once a young homeless boy just like the one in front of him. He placed a calming hand on the boy’s shoulder and grinned brightly, showing off the tell-tale sharp canines of the elves. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small elastic. He did a poor job of brushing out the boy’s hair with his willowy fingers and pulled the front part of the mess back and tied it in a half ponytail.

“There we are. A handsome rouge you are. Maybe next time you can just charm the money out of stranger’s pockets rather than risking your little fingers,” Soren smiled through his white pointed teeth. The boy nodded meekly, the tears never leaving the edges of his eyes. Soren’s heart fell at the sight. He sighed and looked around the small town square, the strangers giving the bard and the boy looks of disdain. Soren knew very well where this poor boy’s parents were, still he asked.

“Where are your parents child?” he asked giving a blonde maiden a sneering look then turning softer eyes back to the boy. The boy made a noise and looked at the ground. He made a motion and pointed at a road that lead out of the town. Soren followed his pointed finger knowing full well that road lead to the village cemetery. Soren was deadlocked in his options. He was a poor warrior and bard, traveling from town to town all across Chimrah. Not a suitable living for a young child.

The boy looked so lost, gazing deeply into Soren’s eyes. The little human grew quickly on him. Again the elf sighed deeply. “Whats your name child?” he asked reluctantly. The boy looked up through small strands of hair at the kind man. He sniffled having already allowed the tears to tread down his dirt ridden face, causing streaks in the grime. “P-Paxion Jarvey,” the boy answered in a small voice. Soren could tell not many of the people in the town showed this boy much kindness. He looked half starved and his voice was coarse. 

Soren didn’t like thinking of this poor boy wasting away to die in this small back water village. He stood up straight and gathered his things having made his decision. “Well Paxion. I am Soren Alengal. How would you like to be my apprentice?” he offered handing his lute out to Paxion who was almost the same size as it. 

Paxion looked around warily, scanning the area. A few of the villagers had stopped at the fountain a few feet away and had began whispering. Soren really didn’t care however, his primary attention caught on little Paxion. “R-Really?” Paxion asked disbelieving. Soren chuckled warmly and held the lute closer to him. Paxion smiled brightly taking the instrument from Soren gleefully. “Are you going to teach me how to play?” Paxion asked jubilantly, his mood becoming lighter. Soren nodded with his bright, wide grin. “And so much more my dear boy, now lets get a move on. I am expected in Illia in two days,” Soren adjusted his pack and tightened his long sword on his hip. He glanced over his shoulder down at Paxion and began to walk out of the town, Pax close in heel. The boy still crying, now though, tears of joy.

 

~Eight years later~

“No Pax! You are doing it all wrong!” Soren chided wading through the water to stand next to the young man. Paxion had grown significantly in the last eight years now standing at the same height as Soren. “You damned old Elf, I did just the way you showed me,” Pax whined and kicked at the water. Soren rolled his eyes and shook his head. He held his hand out and Pax handed the lute back to his mentor. “You are so talented Pax, you have no idea. You just need to focus your energy,” Soren slung the strap of the instrument over his shoulder.

Pax crossed his arms but continued to pay attention. Soren started to strum the instrument starting in a slow melody. His long fingers moving like fluid. Soothing and calm. The wind around the two picked up, tossing both of the men’s hair about. Pax sighed knowing exactly what was coming next. Soren opened a dark blue eye and looked over at Pax and smirked. Such a cocky old man, Pax thought to himself. In a quick motion Soren strummed down hard on the lute and a hard gust of wind slammed against Paxion sending him down into the water. 

Pax quickly stood back up, his long blonde hair drenched and fallen out of it’s half ponytail. Soren roared in laughter at the soaking teenager at his side. Pax slung water at Soren who just laughed even harder. “Damned elf!” Pax seethed wringing out his shirt. He began to shiver and hugged his arms together. “It’s cold Soren,” Pax whined in a mock pout. Soren, still chuckling, handed the lute back to Pax. “Remember Pax. Play from the heart, not memory,” Soren reminded him and quickly got out of the water.

“You know, when you run away every time you hand me the lute, it makes me think you don’t believe in me,” Pax called after his mentor. “I do believe in you dear boy. Just think of it as me believing in you so much, I wish to live through the experience to tell the tale to others... Its a bard’s way boy,” Soren assured from the shore of the lake. Pax groaned and slung the leather strap over his shoulder.

He took a deep breath and examined the wooden instrument in his shaking hands, now shaking from nerves rather than the cold. It was a dark green wood, Soren said was from the trees indigenous to the Elvhen woods of Shir’lak. He called them Turnlock Trees, they grew green bark and maroon leaves, strongest wood in all of the regions. On the lute there were golden leaves painted on the edges in a decorative manor, no doubt painted by Soren. It was very old but well kept. The lute was dear to both Soren and Pax.

He plucked at a few cords getting a feel of it. He glanced over at his mentor who watched eagerly. Pax smiled a small bit, being sure not to let Soren see him do so. He played a few more notes. With a long sigh he began his song. One he wrote a few years prior when Soren had first began tutoring him. He heard Soren chuckle warmly from the shore but ignored him. 

He played the cords with expert fingers, knowing his song well. The air was still around him and he began to feel disheartened. “Remember Pax... From the heart!” Soren called over to him. Pax grimaced but closed his eyes. He continued playing getting lost in his music. After a few minutes of playing he lost hope in conjuring any magic, he decided he just wanted to play the song. His lips parted and he began to hum to the song. He heard Soren gasp from the shore but ignored him once again. The old man loved it when Pax would sing, it was a rare thing for the blonde but he was talented.

“The lonely bard plays from the water,” he sung quietly. “A singing song in the river stone. A valiant warrior brought to the slaughter, and the sounds of the birds... Are lost upon dead ears. He is left standing, alone,” before he was able to finish his song he opened his eyes to see a giant wave of water hurtling towards him. 

He yelped and stopped playing too late as he was drug under by the wall of water. When he stood up out of the water once again he saw Soren on the shore clapping vigorously for him. “That was amazing! Pax you did it! Your first spell,” Soren gushed as he jumped back into the water making his way back to Pax. Soren embraced him in a tight hug, showing him how proud he was of his young mentor.

“Fantastic work my boy. I knew you had the magic in you,” Soren released the hug but kept a tight grip on his shoulders. Pax didn’t know what to say. They had been training for this for the last eight years. Pax was sure he wasn’t magical in any way, he didn’t feel it, but now there was no doubt. Pax smiled happily. “I won’t lie Soren... I was beginning to get worried,” Pax chuckled nervously. Soren shook his head and slapped Pax on the back affectionately. “I knew you were worried boy. But you have nothing to fear. I will always be proud of you. Magic or no,” Soren assured with a knowing smile and left the water. Pax stood there in the water a moment longer, lingering on Soren’s words. “Thank you...”

 

~Three years later~

 

“Where have you been boy?” Soren asked sternly as Pax entered the small inn room. Pax closed the door and groaned deeply. “I was hanging out with friends,” Pax mumbled and plopped down heavily on the hay bed next to Soren’s. He rolled over to face away from his mentor. Soren closed his book and placed it gently on the table next to him. “Friends? We haven’t been here more than three days Pax, where in Chimrah did you procure friends?” Soren asked with amusement. “Or are these the buxom, long dark haired type friends?” Soren joked.

Pax didn’t reply to his joking, just laid on his bed facing the wall silently. Soren raised a dark eyebrow and ran his long willowy fingers through his black blue hair, long since began turning grey since their first meeting eleven years ago. He threw his long legs over the side of his bed and faced Pax.

“Paxion Jarvey you look at me this minute,” Soren ordered, his brows pulled together in a worried frown. Pax groaned and rolled over reluctantly. Soren saw the red in his ice blue eyes, and the puffiness of his eye lids, just barely in the dim light of the candles. Soren’s face instantly fell. “Pax... Whats wrong?” Soren knew the tell-tale signs of tears. Especially on his Paxion’s face.

Pax didn’t say anything at first, he just looked over his mentor sitting on the bed across from him. “I may have done... Something,” Pax admitted ashamed. Soren raised an eyebrow. “Something?” Soren wondered. Pax sat up and pulled his pack up on the bed. “A few... Friends... And I decided to go out into the forest...” Pax opened his pack revealing a satchel of gold. Soren already didn’t like where this story was going.

“Are you stealing again?” Soren sounded more disappointed rather than angry. Pax looked away, tears returning to his eyes. He bit his lower lip and breathed heavily. Soren examined his poor boy. “What exactly did you do?” Soren demanded urgently. Pax looked back down into his pack. “I know we are short on gold, and I thought, maybe if I offered my skills for hire we’d be able to get out of this damned town,” Pax started quietly. Soren instantly felt a terrible pain of guilt shoot through his chest.

“I know Honoley is a bad town for you, but we are just passing through on our way back to Illia, we leave in the morning Pax,” Soren assured in a comforting voice. Pax shook his head. “I don’t think we can...” Pax stated hiccuping at the end of his sentence. “I fucked up Soren....” Pax stated quickly in a panicked voice. Soren wasn’t sure what was going on. “Explain to me what happened Paxion... Please,” Soren soothed.

Pax took a deep breath and wiped away stray tears with his sleeve. “I didn’t steal anything,” Pax shook his head, “A mercenary band hired me for my lock picking, I was the only one in the tavern who knew how. I admit I was a little drunk agreeing to this, but they told me, three hundred gold up front,” Pax lifted the pack. “They said we were hunting down a witch in the forest, who had a large bounty on her head.” Pax began to shake violently. “They lied to me Soren...”

Soren stood up and sat down on the bed next to Pax. He rubbed his back and only then did he notice the blood caked to his clothes. Soren stood back up in shock. “We went out to a small logging house in the forest... She was a widow, living on her own in the cottage... She wasn’t a witch...” Pax’s voice went quiet. “Someone in the town had paid the group to murder her, so they could uproot her land... I didn’t know that until it was too late... They did as they were ordered, and so much more. And I killed them. All of them Soren. There was seven of us. Its only going to be a matter of time before the rest of the group finds out that the rouge they picked up from the tavern was the only survivor,” Pax explained grimly. “I couldn’t save her... When I saw them do those things... I snapped. I destroyed the entire plot of land,” Pax looked up and into Soren’s dark eyes.

Soren’s eyes flicked to the lute leaning against the wall. What Pax was saying was dangerous. “Without an instrument? You leveled a plot of land and killed six men?” Soren asked slowly. Pax nodded and began to cry again. Soren didn’t want to believe it, was too scared to. Regardless he knelt down in front of Pax and squeezed his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have offered your help... But if you didn’t... They wouldn’t have gotten what they deserved,” Soren said with a half smile, showing a small bit of his sharp canines. “But we’ll talk more about this later. Right now we need to leave this town before we’re found.”

~

Soren and Pax stealthily made their way out of the village in the dead of night. Soren was in his leather fighting armor, fully equipped with long sword and his shield. Pax had a pair of daggers tied to his hips and a cloak full of throwing daggers at his disposal. Once in the forest they both thought they were home free. Until a deftly shot arrow struck Pax in the calf sending him to the ground with a grunt and a painful yelp. 

Soren stopped dead in his tracks and turned on his heel. Fear coursed through his body at the sight of Paxion on the ground gripping at his leg. “Paxion!” he exclaimed and slid to the ground next to his young apprentice. “No, hush Soren, you’ll give away...”

“Too late rouge. We’ve been tracking you since you left the logging sight... Well what was left of it at least. You don’t have anymore explosives on you do you?” a gruff voice came wafting from the darkness. Soren stood up and drew his sword, gritting his teeth, ready for the fight ahead. “A tree huger knight and an adolescent human rouge huh? This is a strange sight to see indeed,” the man stepped out of the shadows and into the light given from the high moon.

He was adorned in obvious raider armor. He was built like a wall, with a bald, tattooed head, and a long grizzly beard. he looked dangerous indeed. “I am Hongar the Pariah of Fear,” the man announced. Pax scoffed roughly from the ground getting the man’s attention. “Anyone with the need to give himself a title like that is over compensating for something,” Pax chided as he looked over his wound. Pax took the arrow and broke off the end forcing the remaining part to push through his leg, pulling it out of the other side. He grit his teeth in pain and threw the point to the side with and angry grunt.

Hongar looked the young man over with a devious grin. “I will kill the elf men. The boy would fetch a decent price on the slave market. Too pretty to kill,” the man seethed turning his attention back to Soren. Pax’s face went white and he shot a glance to Soren who returned his look with an angry snarl directed to Hongar. “You touch my boy and you die,” Soren promised with indignation. Hongar chortled and drew his large war hammer from his back. “Lets dance then tree huger,” Hongar swung the hammer down at Soren who easily dodged, rolling off to the side.

Pax tried to sit up off the ground but the pain in his leg was too much. He began to think maybe the arrow was laced with a poison. He started to lose the feeling in his leg slowly, confirming his suspicions. He shot his gaze back up to Soren who was still dodging Hongar’s heavy swings. Off to the side Pax spotted an archer creeping along the tree line. He was readying his bow for a shot at Soren. Quickly Pax drew two throwing knives from his coat and threw them at the hidden man with precise dexterity. Both knives struck the man in the temple, putting him out of this world, his body falling lifeless to the ground. 

Pax shimmied his way to a tree and crawled his way up to standing, putting all his weight on his uninjured leg. He drew his remaining six knives. A man jumped from his right and got a hasty knife to the eye. In the darkness of the trees he was able to mark a few more opponents but there was far too many for either of them to take on. 

Soren blocked a particularly heavy swing with his shield and was thrown off to the side. Pax looked around frantically, if they were going to have a fighting chance at winning this, they were going to have to use magic. He spotted, laying a few feet away from him, their packs. Connected to Soren’s was the lute. A few more raiders emerged from the forest to join the fight with Soren. Pax threw his last dagger at one of them and dove painfully for the instrument.

He went to grab it, having trouble with the straps holding it to the bag. Finally he got it free and rolled up onto his good knee. “Soren!” Pax yelled catching his mentor’s attention. Pax threw the lute to him. Soren tossed his sword and shield down and rolled out of the group encircling him. He caught the lute before it hit the ground. He stood protectively in front of Pax, preventing the group of men from passing him. Quickly he began to play and a torrent of fire swallowed a few of the men. Their screams echoed in the dark forest causing a few of the other raiders to panic. “Holy shit! Hes a true bard!” One of the men panicked before being swallowed in the fire. There was a loud plunk sound and suddenly Soren hit a wrong note but continued playing, the fire dying slowly before him. Pax quickly made his way to his good foot and hobbled over to his mentor who seemed miles away. He begged for another incident like earlier, but had no idea how he summoned the magic. 

Another bad note followed behind another plunking sound and the fires flickered. Another bad note and the fires died all together. And a final plunk sound and Soren was falling to the ground, four arrows sticking from his chest. Pax caught him as he fell cradling him in his lap. “Haa! Good shot Kyle!” Hongar clapped loudly.

Pax held his mentor closely. His eyes frantically searched the man in his arms. His free hand hovered shaking over the arrows protruding from Soren. Should he pull the arrows out? Should he leave them? A cold hand on Pax’s face pulled him back into reality. A reality he didn’t want to be in. “S-Soren...” Pax sobbed quietly. “Get the blonde, boys!” Hongar ordered and a dozen more men appeared from the darkness. Where were these men coming from, Pax distantly thought as he looked into Soren’s dying eyes.

“Pax... I’m sorry...” Soren whispered weakly. Pax felt a panic rushing through him. Desperate and needful. This wasn’t how Pax imagined this happening. He pictured Soren happy in a bed at the old age of ninety, peacefully falling into oblivion. Not in a bleeding heap of arrows in Paxion’s lap. “No... No, I’m sorry. I did this!” Pax bit his lip but the tears still fell from his blue eyes, falling on Soren’s skin. Soren shook his head weakly and smiled his white sharp toothed smile for the last time. “I couldn’t be more proud of you... My son,” Soren chocked and faded away. Pax held tighter to him, not ready to say goodbye. “No... NO!” he screamed. 

He felt rough hands on his shoulders pulling him away from Soren. An anger Paxion had never felt before bubbled violently in him as he watched Soren slide away from him. They drug him about ten feet before he let out a blood curdling scream causing the very earth beneath them to shake. They let go of Pax to stay balanced quickly stepping away from him.

Pax stood up slowly, as if his leg had never been hurt, standing tall. A lump in his throat made his voice dark and painful. “You.... Monsters...” Pax muttered. “What the hell are you?” Hongar questioned, fear lacing his voice. Pax’s eyes shot to the ‘Pariah of Fear’. Hongar took a step back in fear of the sight of the young bard. His blue eyes were now glowing red and his clothes and hair acted as though there was no gravity. An eerie aura of power flooding off him. Pax felt the power from earlier, but in a much greater force. He looked down at Soren again, the elf’s eyes still open but lifeless, the arrows sticking out of his chest and their lute, laying half against his body and the ground. Pax began to breath heavily, clenching his fists and knitting his brows together in a furious glare. He bared his teeth in a snarl. “I... Am.... A Bard,” he spoke cryptically. After that he muttered only one more word to the group of men standing around him, and a wave of red energy expelled from him killing everybody with in a 20 yard radius.

He fell to the ground hard, panting, nearly choking on his own breath. He looked around him at the dozen or more bodies of raiders littered in the now treeless area. Siting in the center of the blast, completely untouched was Soren and the lute. Pax fell in on himself and began to sob violently. The word he muttered to the now dead men? Soren.


End file.
